


Back Down Memory Lane

by Militia



Category: Alien Series, Aliens (1986), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: And a lot more Therapy, Autistic Myles (Star Wars), Betrayal, But here comes the deep end of the water anyway, Horror, Jango rides the Ace Train alone, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD, PTSD Induced Panic Attacks, Panic Attacks, There will be violence, There will definitely be creepiness, There will most likely be gore, Trauma, Trauma Induced Panic, While Jaster drives it, he is also a dork, no one is prepared for this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:35:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27127993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Militia/pseuds/Militia
Summary: "He felt his lips twitch slightly, a scoff tickling at the back of his throat. Expertise. Interesting little way of saying childhood experience."
Relationships: Jango Fett & Jaster Mereel, Jango Fett & Myles (Star Wars), Obi-Wan Kenobi & Myles (Star Wars), Obi-Wan Kenobi & Quinlan Vos, Qui-Gon Jinn & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 164
Kudos: 323





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Huge Thanks to Reyiosa again for Beta'ing this work. Amazing job as usual

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t hear anything over the blood roaring through his ears. Over the deafening thumping of his heart, beating faster, and faster. Was he breathing? No, he should probably start breathing again.

Flicking the comm off, making a mental note to apologise to Mace later, Obi-Wan forced his knees to unlock, pushing one leg forward to take a step, then another, slowly making his way out of the kitchen on trembling legs, from where he’d accepted the call.

His visions swam, and he threw a hand out to catch himself on the wall. _Right, breathing_. He needed to breathe. He needed oxygen in his brain so he didn’t pass out. The idea was tempting, though. At least unconscious he wouldn’t have to deal with this.

He finally reached the bathroom door, but found himself flinching back violently, back slamming into the frame behind him and stumbling backwards until he fell to the floor when the light turned on suddenly, startling him even though he had been the one to flick the switch. 

His chest felt too tight. Breathing hurt, and he felt tears prick at his eyes. It was like he was a child again. Terrified and alone, crawling through vents and gutters to escape the evil that the in-fighting between the Melida and Daan factions had released in their anger, against each other, and against the Young. Weak with fear and hunger as he, and everyone he knew, were hunted down by something that could not be reasoned with. 

Obi-Wan broke, and he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He let the sobs tear their way free as he curled into a ball right where he was on the floor, clutching his head while screwing up his eyes to keep them open as long as possible. Every time they slid shut, all he could see was blood; red and warm, and green and dangerous. His hands clawed at his ears as he desperately sobbed over the screams and cries he could still hear, phantoms echoing through his brain in constant torment.

He was in the temple. He was safe. He just needed to get _up_. There were no monsters hiding in the shadows. Not here.

With every fibre fighting against him, his mind screaming at him to find a safe place to hide, Obi-Wan forced himself to unsteady feet, stumbling the last few steps through the fresher door.

He could see the floor. The light. The mirror in front of him. His reflection. Tears.

He could hear the buzz of electricity. His heartbeat. The slap of his hand against the counter. His heaving breaths in the too-quiet room.

He could still smell the tea he’d dropped on himself when he’d let go of his mug. Singed hair, from a spar with Anakin ending with a training saber a touch too close to his beard.

He could feel his clothes rubbing against his skin. The cool surface under his flexed fingers.

He could taste salt, as he licked his lips.

His breath shuddered through him as he fumbled for the tap before dipping forward to throw some cold water to his face. The temperature shocked him enough that he could wrench himself another step toward an unsteady centre. He still felt unbalanced, like the floor beneath his feet could give way at any moment. But he grit his teeth and forced the unwanted memories back into the box they’d come crashing out of. He had no use for them. Not here, not now.

_“… they could use your particular expertise..”_

He felt his lips twitch slightly, a scoff tickling at the back of his throat. _Expertise_ . Interesting little way of saying _childhood experience_.

Pushing himself back onto his heels, he stared deep into the eyes of his reflection and pretended he didn’t see the shadows lurking there within easy reach. He needed to get himself together.

_“… Master Qui-Gon and his padawan Anakin were set to accompany the groups as a diplomatic envoy…”_

He already knew what he was going to do. Mace had known too. He’d been able to see it in the Master’s eyes. It was also likely why he hadn’t yet been commed back.

_“… we lost contact with the pair three days ago…”_

His breaths started to come slightly slower, with minimal shakiness. His hands still trembled where they hung at his sides.

_“… you wouldn’t be going alone…”_

There’d be a group of some of the best suited Jedi for this kind of excursion. They’d be meeting up with a Master Jedi already on planet—who had a Padawan in his care—and the group of Mandalorians that were part of the diplomatic meeting. It wouldn’t be Obi-wan, alone this time. There’d be warriors, and other Jedi, and he himself was now an adult knight, not a disgraced former-padawan. As far as they all knew, it had nothing to do with the creatures that had taken out the last population that had been on-planet. This many years later, it was more likely those creatures were all dead too. After all there had been a new colony established there for the last ten years with nothing reported.

_“… all we know of the situation is that it escalated on-planet…”_

_In, out._ The highest chance that it was just a standard explosion or skirmish or something that had knocked out telecommunications. He could be overreacting. An escalation could be anything. There was no need for his mind to immediately jump to the worst-case scenario.

_“… the meeting was scheduled to take place on the newly recolonised and neutrally stanced UF-BE-1, previously known as… Melida-Daan…”_

He stumbled his way back to the kitchen, grabbing his blinking comm from where it was lying innocently on the counter. His leg hit the bench painfully. Dragging a hand down his face, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath.

He could almost hear his old Master’s voices as though he were right beside him. _Don’t focus on your anxieties. Be in the here and now._

“Good luck with that,” he muttered to himself, as a new wave of tension rolled through him.

He gasped out a breath, chest shuddering again, as he looked up at the ceiling through his blurred vision. He wasn’t sure he could do this. How was he supposed to do this?

His hand drifted up to behind his ear, rubbing absently at the soft hair, where his braid had hung, less than a year ago, before being cut by a Master.

Just not his.

Just not Master Qui-Gon.

He already knew he was going to go on the mission. Knew he was going to go back to Melida-Daan. Though he supposed he should start getting used to calling it by the colony's current designation, UF-BE-1. There were no Melida or Daan to speak of anymore. It didn’t matter that Qui-Gon hadn’t been his Master for more than a year. It didn’t matter that they’d barely spoken since Obi-Wan had been found and brought back.

It didn’t matter that Qui-Gon had already had a new padawan for several years by the time Obi-wan had woken up in the Temple, after being rescued in his escape pod, from the stasis he’d lain in for fifteen years; after barely escaping with his own life, after three years of fighting, and another of running and hiding from the monster that had hunted them all down. Young, Melida, and Daan alike. 

His comm gave a quick ping from where it lay beside him.

With a quick sniff, running his hands down his face once more, smoothing his hair back and taking one last breath, Obi-Wan picked it up.

Windu _: Landing Bay 007, 1730._

His fingers trembled around the comm as he slid it into his pocket. He’d need to pack before they had to leave, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to bring himself to eat before he needed to get moving. He compromised by slipping some fruits and snacks into his robe pockets to nibble on when his appetite came back.

He threw his bag over his shoulder, his fingers rubbing the strap nervously and started walking.

As he walked, steps a touch quicker than his natural stride. He couldn’t find it in himself to return any greetings from his fellow Jedi beyond a forced, closed smile. The fingers on his free hand brushed his saber, an old habit he’d never cared to drop. Playing with the cool metal, he walked the path to the hangar with a forced single-minded focus. All too quickly, he arrived.

_ Bay 01. Bay 02. 03. 04. _

Steadying himself, eyes sliding closed, he went toward the waiting ship, its lowered ramp, and the small group waiting at the base.

Mace was talking in low tones to Master Shaak Ti.

Footsteps pounded behind him. A sudden weight on his shoulder shoved him forward with a yelp, sending him into a wild stumble.

“Sorry!” Quinlan panted, louder than he’d probably meant: it caught the attention of the masters in front of them, along with Master Agen Kolar who’d joined the duo as he emerged from the depths of the ship.

Obi-Wan shouldered his bag from where it had landed and directed a scowl at the Kiffar Jedi. Quinlan smirked, poking him in the cheek.

“Someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed and let it ruin their day?” 

Rolling his eyes, Obi-wan hid the twitch in his lips that would ruin the annoyed attitude he was going for. Even after all the mess that had been his life so far, he was glad Quinlan had never changed.

“Knight Vos.” Master Windu quickly redirected the Knight’s attention. “Good to see you made it in one piece.”

“Masters.” Quinlan grinned unrepentantly back.

“Masters,” Obi-Wan echoed in a quiet voice.

Taking a deep breath, Mace handed Obi-Wan and Quinlan a new comm each, before passing a data pad to Master Ti.

“This has all the information we currently have. I won’t lie, it’s not much. You’ll be going into this situation almost blind, but this should give you something to work with. Stay safe, and make it back.”

Masters Ti and Kolar gave firm nods, as did Quinlan shortly after. When Mace’s eyes landed on Obi-Wan, he fought the urge to shuffle his feet, gaze dropping from the heavy weight of the man’s full attention. His head bounced up and down in small jerky movements, which he quickly turned into a rough nod.

“May the Force be with you,” Mace said, tone low and serious.

“May the Force be with you,” the group echoed, before the Masters turned and entered the ship. Bouncing behind them,, Quinlan immediately started questioning Master Ti about the mission details, spinning conspiracies and sounding any and all ideas he had on what could have caused the communication black-out. It was likely his attempt to ease some tension before they had to start taking it seriously.

Obi-Wan went to follow, but was stopped by a hand on his forearm. Bracing himself, he struggled to meet Mace’s dark eyes as they searched his own. For what, he wasn’t quite sure.

After what felt like minutes, but was likely less than a few seconds, he was released with a soft, “May the Force be with you.” Then Mace strode away, his cloak billowing behind him.

Pushing away his anxieties, Obi-Wan wrenched his eyes away from the retreating back and toward the top of the ramp, and pushed himself forward.

He couldn’t help but think the hiss and thud of the ramp closing behind him sounded ominous. He had a bad feeling about this.

“Hey, Obes.” Quinlan shook him out of his brooding. His head ducked around a corner to peer at him with a wide grin. “You gotta check this out, man.”

As quick as he was there he was gone, his footsteps echoing as he bounded back to wherever he’d come from.

Fingers tightening their grip around the strap of his bag, Obi-Wan followed him out of the cargo hold of the ship and down a small corridor lined with doors. Just as he wondered where Quinlan had gone , his friend’s head popped out of the closest to his left. It startled Obi-Wan enough that his skin crawled.

“C’mon, check it out.”

Whatever it was, it likely wasn’t as amusing as his friend seemed to think it was. He entered the room, only to watch in dismay as the man jumped and swung himself up onto a bed with a cheer. 

“Bunkbeds, Obes!”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes to hide the way he wanted to roll them.  _ Of course.  _ “I’m going to hazard a guess that you’ve claimed top bunk.”

“Oh so wise, Obes,” Quinlan huffed, pushing himself to lie on his side. “My oldest friend, so grown up, after spending so many years behind–”

“Oh, shut up.” He grabbed a pillow and threw it in Quinlan’s face.

“Boys.” Both of them stilled and whirled around to give Shaak Ti their full attention, to her amusement if the twitch of her lips was any indicator. “We’re about to go over the information, if you care to join us.”

Obi-Wan sheepishly rubbed his neck and dropped his bag near the foot of the bed. Quinlan jumped off the top bunk and landed beside him. Together they followed Master Ti out, toward whatever room they were meeting in.

Beneath his feet, he felt the hum as the engine fired up, gravity turning on to balance them as the ship pulled away from the bay, and out toward their destination.

As he and Quinlan followed Master Ti through the ship, Obi-Wan glanced out a port-window. The skyline of Coruscant began to diminish, disappearing behind them as they exited its atmosphere.

He got the odd urge to wave goodbye.


	3. Chapter 3

The main concerns for the mission were so: Two rival factions of Mandalorians, one of which was also complicated by further internal politics. The presence of two Jedi among this volatile mix of Mandalorians and a very tenuous grasp on peace. On top of this, the fact that the weaker half of the Mandalorians—Death Watch, who were considered terrorists—had suggested UF-BE-1 as a meeting place. If it turned out that Death Watch had known the history of the planet before suggesting it, and if it turned out that everyone there had been attacked by—

Obi-Wan drew into himself a bit, listening to what the others suggested as their plan of action before offering any input. He needed the space to breathe before he could help coming up with a logical plan.

Across from him, Quinlan was scratching idly at the table as the two Masters theorised further about what could have happened.

Once the conversation had lulled, he spoke up.

“So, as far as we know, Death Watch set up the meeting, and then communications were blacked out?”

“We”—Agen glanced over at Shaak Ti a moment before continuing—“unfortunately can’t jump to any conclusions, but those are the facts, yes.”

“So, our main assumption—unofficially that is—is Death Watch is an immediate threat.”

The two Masters murmured in agreement. dropped back into quiet as Quinlan played with his hands, tapping out light rhythms against the table’s surface.

“Any signs of–” Quinlan’s soft voice paused, eyes flicking Obi-Wan’s way before meeting Shaak’s.

“None that got reported before communication failed” replied Master Ti.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath against the faint tickle of clawing panic stirring deep in his chest.

“But we can’t rule it out–”

“It is unlikely,” Shaak Ti interrupted .

“But we can’t rule it out,” Quinlan bit back, with more force.

“No,” Agen cut in, voice low. “We can’t rule it out, Knight Vos.”

Obi-Wan rubbed his hands together in his lap to stave off the minor tremors already echoing through his limbs.

He felt raw. Grating against the pity he could almost physically feel, like coarse sand rubbing against his mental shields, from the trio across the table. He was sick of it, even though he knew he wasn’t thinking rationally. He was already showing signs of stress, and they’d only get worse the longer they sat in question. The unknown only made his anxieties worse.

“Obi-Wan–” Quinlan was interrupted by a sharp warning trill from Shaak. He threw her a sharp look and forged ahead. 

“If something did happen, and if those...” Quinlan was searching for the right word to say. 

Sighing, Quinlan pushed forward. “Is there anything not in that brief, that you think you could tell us now, to help us prepare, in case of the worst case scenario?”

The patient quiet was a new kind of stressor. Obi-Wan wracked his brains desperately, but he couldn’t find the words to describe the few memories he still retained. It was hard, when Obi-Wan’s memory had been distorted from trauma and time. They were going off of the minimal information he could give when he’d woken up, after Master Che had succeeded in getting him to talk again. They were too tainted with fear and anger and horror, with physical sensations he mentally recoiled from: the sticky feel of blood on his hands, the hiss of bubbling metal—

He swallowed, looking his friend in the eye.

“Their blood. It’s– It’s dangerous.”

The two Masters shared a glance, pulling back a bit. Master Ti’s lekku twitched against her robes. Even Quinlan seemed to brush over the words, already opening his mouth without focus, as if to move on with the conversation. Obi-Wan felt a flash of anger.

“It’s like acid,” he bit out. “It can melt through– through skin, bone, dirt, even metals and stronger materials.”

Quinlan paused, then dipped his head in thanks. Obi-Wan suddenly found himself burning with the need to move. His leg shook with the effort of keeping still, his hands scratching at each other as an itch grew beneath his skin. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as his mind threatened to slip into a scream-filled past with each passing second. Abruptly, and with a curt explanation of being tired, he took his leave back to the room he’d be sharing for the next several hours while they made their journey.

Landing heavily on his bed, he arranged himself into a starting meditation pose, and slipped his eyes shut.

Giving up on any attempts to loosen the tension in his jaw or his brow, Obi-wan resolved to simply focus on his breathing, and hope it faded with time.

_ In, slowly. Hold, and breathe out, slowly. _ He repeated the action, not keeping count in an effort to lose track of time.

Far back in the corners, hiding in shadows in his mind, memories thumped and threatened to spill out of their box again. He lashed the box tighter with more chains. Then he turned his back on it, and focused on keeping his breathing steady.

Why was he so angry? It likely had to do with leftover frustration and stress from his attack. That’s what his mind-healer would say. But Obi-Wan knew it ran a bit deeper than that, tied closely to his trauma. 

Trust had been easy on Melida-Daan. The Young were to be trusted, protected. And he was trusted and protected in return. It became hardier, murkier, when he was back in the temple. It was harder to remember how he was supposed to act. It was harder to reign in his temper at any perceived injustice, like the time he’d been scolded when they’d found out he’d been hiding a food stash,  _ just in case _ . Even being back in the Temple hadn’t been enough to soothe some of his more prominent fears.

It was harder to know who he could really trust, when all the time everyone said the same things.  _ You can trust us, we’re here for you. We just want to help. _

Not everyone wanted to help. Not everyone told the truth. And a part of Obi-Wan, hidden deep and buried, missed the simplicity of knowing who had your back, and who was willing to dig a knife into it.

  
  


It was that frustration that Obi-Wan constantly struggled with. He wasn’t sure how he’d been knighted when it didn’t feel like he had mastered his trials, or mastered himself. Surely a Jedi wasn’t supposed to feel this conflicted?

As he slipped between his sheets, rolling on his side to face away from the door, even as it caused his back to prickle, his thoughts couldn’t stop churning.

Even when he later pretended to sleep, as Quinlan came in, quietly turned off the lights, and got up into his own bunk, he found himself staring at the ceiling, mind buzzing with noise.

Hours later, glaring holes into the bed above him, as he picked and pulled at different memories, two sides of his mind arguing about why he’d been right or why he’d been wrong, he still couldn’t find enough quiet to sleep.

Obi-Wan hoped the morning would bring some answers. Maybe a mission off Coruscant was just what he needed, even if it took him back to a place that held some of his worst nightmares and shadows.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also going to make a note. Roughly, ages are going to be, for characters so far: Obi-Wan, roughly 21 physically, knighted four years after being woken from stasis. Quinlan, around 35. Shaak Ti, 53. Agen Kolar, 49.

“Come on, Obes! Wake up time.”

Obi-Wan pulled himself upright with a scowl. He felt emotionally and mentally drained, and physically, he didn’t feel much better. It was always a fun time when his insomnia shot back with full force.

Grumbling his way to the fresher with a change of clothes, he made his way through his morning routine slowly, glad for the space it gave him to breathe.

Making his way out toward the eating area, he pulled short. To Obi-Wan’s growing dismay, Quinlan sat at a table and stabbed a knife between the small spaces of his hand. Raising his eyes to the ceiling briefly, he winced when Quinlan cussed, blade nicking the side of his knuckle as he mis-timed a tap.

Obi-Wan let out the most put-upon sigh he’d given in the last six months.“Why, exactly, are you making your best attempt at removing your fingers?”

Quinlan grinned the tapping restarting even as he wasn’t looking at his fingers. “Good to get the practice in, Obes. Keeps the reflexes sharp,” he said.

Obi-Wan hadn’t had nearly enough sleep or caffeine to wrangle that situation into something reasonable, so he left it alone.

There was no hope of the two Masters doing something either; both were milling about the kitchen, also ignoring what was happening in the dining area. He agreed that no, he did not in fact hear the yelp behind him, or the muttered cursing, before the tapping started once again, more forceful than before.

Sometimes, Obi-Wan really had to wonder just what the last nineteen years had done for his friend’s maturity, when he still seemed like a padawan rather than a seasoned Knight.

He at least managed to drink one cup of caf and prepare another, before following the two Masters out to join Quinlan. Caf and a ration bar was easy on his stomach and his nerves, in the mornings. He still struggled on occasion with Master Che’s required three meals a day.

Once everyone was sitting around the table, Master Ti pulled up a transmission log.

“We received this less than an hour ago, when we came within short-range distance of the planet.” Her voice remained soft as she spoke.

“It’s scrambled. Filled with static. We aren’t even entirely sure there’s a message on the signal, or if it’s just someone’s attempt at getting anyone’s attention they can.”

“We should prepare for the worst. To be thrown into the middle of a fight, just in case,” Master Kolar tacked on.

_ Slow breath in, let it back out. Ignore whatever shakiness is rattling around his lungs,  _ Obi-Wan thought.  _ Don’t think about the worst case scenario just yet. Release your anxieties.  _

“Isn’t that what we were going to do anyway?” Quinlan asked.

_ Only focus on the here, and now. There’d be a time for fear later. _

“Yes, but it never hurts to have a reminder, Knight Vos.”

The mood was subdued after that. Obi-Wan frowned thoughtfully at the table.

“What if they need an evacuation out of the colony?” he asked.

He glanced up to see the two Masters’ share a strained look.

“We”—Shaak took the lead this time—“don’t have the room to take off-planet more than a maximum of fifteen, and even that would be pushing the limits of our oxygen.”

“So we call in for some reinforcements then–”

“We’re under orders, Knight Vos,” Agen cut in. “To retrieve the Master-Padawan pair, and to find out what is happening. We cannot call for reinforcements when we do not have any idea if they are required–”

“But by the time we know if they’re required it could be too late–”

“We know,” Shaak said. “But these are our instructions, and what we can do is limited by what we have to provide, space-wise, fuel-wise, among other factors. We have only been charged with finding our Jedi pair, returning them to the Temple, and collecting any information on current proceedings on the planet.”

Her lekku twitched as she spoke, giving Obi-Wan the impression she might not entirely agree with what she was saying.

Huffing, Quinlan tapped his knife against the table a few times. Obi-Wan thought it might have been in a bit of a pattern, but he couldn’t be certain. It could just as easily have been a random beat.

With silence once again having fallen, Agen left the room to return to piloting the ship. Obi-Wan focused on the increased thrum of the engine, vibrating through the hull as they finally broke atmosphere. He went and grabbed his bag, hooking his lightsaber onto his belt. He slid past Quinlan, who ducked past him into their room to retrieve his own pack, and joined Shaak Ti in the crew compartment to wait for landing.

He twisted the soft-worn strap of his bag between his fingers, shoulders tensed and jaw aching, watching the heat rise against the metal of the ship outside the window as they broke into the atmosphere.

Sitting beside him Quinlan’s knee bounced erratically. Shaak Ti’s lekku curled, pressing against her robes as her montrals twitched. Her eyes darkened to black, staring unmoving out the larger transparent viewport, watching the ground as it slowly came into view. This far out, nothing looked out of place. Most of the planet still seemed barren and dead, but as they drew closer to the colony, the scenery changed. Green appeared on farms and attempted nature reserves. There was a transparent film of cloud and mist, but no smoke or fires or anything that could signal a fight was occurring below.

Obi-Wan coiled his shields around him tight to combat his rising stress. The closer they got to the planet’s surface, the louder the memories pounded from their chained box. Visually, everything seemed fine. So why couldn’t he shake the feeling of dread slowly creeping through him?

His teeth ground together. He could almost hear Master Che’s admonishments from the creche, warning him against the damage it would do.

_ Breathe in, hold, and breathe out. _

Obi-Wan’s ears popped. His stomach twisted when the ship finally began to slow its descent. Grimacing, wagging his head side to side in an attempt to rid his ears of their new weird tingling sensation, he cast a glance out the view port.

They were dropping down toward an empty bay, in an empty hangar. The ship rocked as it touched down, settling on its feet. No one was milling around outside. He couldn’t see any kind of movement. When he stretched his senses out, cautious and slow, he couldn’t feel a thing, despite them being in the central ship-port. 

They’d officially landed on UF-BE-1, and the entire colony appeared empty of life.

Swallowing his rising nausea,, he joined Quin and Master Ti as they rose. The Council member pulled her bag out of a nearby compartment, before opening the hatch. She then stepped through head swivelling side to side as if to check for possible threats.

Obi-Wan took a breath, then pushed himself after the duo, faint echoes ringing in memory behind him.

The silence was eerie against the whine of the ship as it powered down. The bays around them were empty, save two on the far side of the hangar. Some crates and boxes had been left out, most shut, but a few open, as if they’d been left there in the middle of unpacking.

Quinlan cupped his hands to his mouth, taking a deep breath. Before he could call out, Obi-Wan lunged forward, jerking his elbow to disrupt him. He shook his head against the glare the Kiffar threw at him.

“Does this count as something being wrong enough to call in reinforcements?” Quinlan muttered.

“Not until we’re certain about what’s happened.” Master Ti sighed, scanning their surroundings. Her blinking slowed, pupils expanding and darkening her eyes to black, allowing her to take in as much visual information as she could.

The door hissed shut behind them as Master Kolar joined them, his own bag in hand. He took his own time doing a visual sweep of the area. After glancing their way briefly, Obi-Wan watched him pace to the back of the ship, peeking around it in case there was anything hidden from their line of sight. If there was, it likely wouldn’t have hidden from Master Ti’s senses, but Obi-Wan guessed they could never be too safe in a situation with this many unknown variables.

“Well,” said Master Kolar as he re-joined them, starting to walk toward one of the many exits out of the bay, voice quiet. “We better find our wayward Jedi, hadn’t we?”

The two Council Members took the lead, the pair of Knights following behind. As they walked, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but mutter out of the corner of his mouth, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Quinlan groaned, side-eyeing him.

“You just had to say it, didn’t you?”


	5. Chapter 5

Walking out of the hangar, they were greeted with an empty compound. Empty, but not devoid of any sign of life, like it would have been if it was new. No, this empty was the kind that followed a rush. An evacuation attempt. The kind that left the floors littered with footprints and dust and trash. The kind that had knocked over bins, overturned vehicles, and left cracks in walls. The kind that had shattered wood and glass, bent metal, and left dents.

This was the kind of empty that made a deep pit in Obi-Wan’s stomach.

The pit only grew as the four Jedi trudged forward. His fingers tapped relentlessly at his saber hilt, still fastened securely to his obi. His other hand twisted at the strap of his bag, his body rife with the growing urge to drop the unnecessary weight and make for side streets or over rooftops. The way they walked, in the centre of each path, itched relentlessly at his brain.

Beside him, Quinlan was fiddling with his gloves now that his bag was secured over both his shoulders.

Ahead, both Masters were peering around, alert but not quite alarmed. Their hands still hung by their sides, perhaps not as loosely as when they landed, but not in preparation for any kind of attack. Obi-Wan took small comfort in that, choosing to be glad for their superior senses. Surely they would notice if something was coming toward them.

He kept his own senses alert, stretching them as far as he could without losing focus in that disconcerting emptiness.

_ Where is everyone? Where are all the citizens? Where are all the Mandalorians who were meeting here? _

The farther they walked, the more those questions swirled through his mind. He ignored the clawing fear that he might already know the answer.

They made their way closer to what Obi-Wan assumed might be the centre of the compound. Or at least an office of some sort based off of what little information was left on half-ripped maps or flickering screens. Hopefully they’d find something there. Anything to give them an idea of what had happened. So far, things weren’t looking good for their mission of finding their two missing members.

_ If they can be found, _ a whisper echoed lightly by his ear. Obi-Wan fought the urge to turn. It was just the fear talking. Fear, and memories.

“Hey.” Quinlan nudged him lightly, voice barely a whisper in the oppressive silence. “You think Death Watch could have done this?”

“It won’t do to wonder and make assumptions, Knight Vos.” With her voice as soft and low as it was, Master Ti’s remark didn’t sound like the reprimand it was likely meant as.

“Indeed,” Master Kolar hummed.

They turned another corner, and the group fell back into another disturbed silence. Ahead, the doors into the reception area were broken, hissing and clunking in place as the ruined mechanisms failed to close them.

Obi-Wan shared a look with Quin, who wasn’t quite able to hide the furrow between his brows.

Ahead of them, Shaak Ti’s hand had dropped to rest lightly on her saber.

Obi-Wan pushed down the urge to hide, swallowing against the tightness in his throat. There were two Masters here with them. They’d be fine. So long as he ignored the fact that whatever had happened here had apparently taken out two entire groups of Mandalorians, and a Jedi Master with them.

His hand curled tightly around his own saber, thumb brushing against the cooler steel.

The doors clunked as they approached. Master Ti’s montrals twitched, her head making small sharp movements as she scanned their surroundings. Beside her, Master Kolar swept his gaze around. Their steps slowed the closer they approached the hissing entrance.

Obi-Wan couldn’t feel anything in the Force. It felt like looking through clouded water, but he still had the sensation of being watched.

_ Watch out, Obi _ , the memory muttered in his ear.  _ They could be anywhere around us. We have to be careful. _

Shaak Ti was the one who stepped the last couple steps toward the doors. The gap, shuddering as it was, still required her to turn sideways to get through.

Obi-wan held his breath. But nothing happened. With a deep breath, rolling his shoulders, Master Kolar glanced back at them, gesturing for Quinlan to go through next. Sharing a glance, Quin offered Obi-Wan a tight smile, before ducking through.

The door hissed as the stuck gears whirred.

Obi-wan felt the prickling against his neck grow. He whipped around, eyes darting desperately every which way. Nothing. There was nothing there. He just needed to breathe.

“Knight Kenobi.”

Kolar’s hushed call, brought his attention back with a jerk. He was just being paranoid.

He stepped through the door, sliding between just as one of the doors gave an extra inch, slamming into his shoulder painfully. Wrenching himself the rest of the way through, he stumbled backwards until he collided with an unsteady warmth, strong hands shifting his shoulders and elbows from where they’d slammed into Quin’s torso.

“Breathe, Obes–”

_ “Breathe, Obi–” _

His head twitched, eyes flying to meet Quin’s concerned eyes. Quinlan, just Quinlan. Only Quinlan’s voice, wheezing as he caught his breath from the elbow to his gut.

Master Ti approached the door, holding a hand out, and the clanking lessened, the door stilling long enough for Master Kolar to slide through without issue.

Catching his breath, Obi-Wan pushed himself out of Quinlan’s grip. When the man hesitated taking his hand off Obi-Wan’s shoulder, he gave Quinlan a reassuring nod. He was fine. He was just overreacting.

He avoided the two Masters’ eyes, shame coursing through him. He was better than this.

Thankfully, they moved on without comment, heading toward the front desk across the room. With one more small frown in his direction, Quinlan followed, giving Obi-Wan the time to take a breath. He just needed to pull himself together.

The door hissed and shuddered behind him, mechanism whirring and clanking restarting. The sound echoed slightly, bouncing around the cavernous room, with all of its glass and expensive-looking marble. It would travel far, and it made the hair on his arms stand up. 

Obi-Wan turned at a soft thump.Quinlan had shrugged his bag off, dumping it at his feet into the dust.

Master Kolar’s bag was placed on top of the bench alongside Shaak Ti’s. She was speaking in low tones to him as he tapped his way into the system through what was likely minimal security. Obi-Wan glanced over Quinlan’s shoulders; his friend was reaching over the desk to grab an abandoned pad, tapping to check it for power. Unsuccessful, Quin then skimmed his bare hands over the surface, mouth a tight line, eyes shut. When Obi-Wan gave him a nudge, they fluttered open.

“Anything?” His whisper felt barely audible with how quietly it cracked through his lips. He twisted the strap in his hand, allowing the weight of the bag on his back to ground him.

“Yeah.” Quin lifted his eyes to meet Obi-Wan’s.

“Fear.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to Reyiosa for beta-ing this ch especially. It would not have been remotely legible, or anywhere within the realm of decent let alone as good as it is without her help.

The group continued on.

The feeling of being watched—a prickling on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck—increased with every step. The silence echoed around them, harrowing in its strength. The farther into the compound the group got, the more signs of struggle there were. It wasn't clear between who. Master Ti’s montrals had begun to twitch erratically, her lekku twisting and fidgeting where they lay. Master Kolar's stride had taken a light step, almost predatory in nature. 

Obi-Wan stuck to Quinlans' side, unwilling to stray too far in case they might need to duck and run.

The faint tapping of their feet against the hard ground accompanied the group through the first several rooms of the compound, massive arching hangars that they were. Then Obi-Wan thought he might be hearing something a bit more, something to suggest they weren’t the only ones moving. It started gradually enough that he couldn't even be entirely sure how long he'd noticed it for, but somewhere off to the side, echoing down to him, he could swear there was another set of steps. Slightly stronger than the soft tread the Jedi were walking in, this sounded heavier, stretching father.

He took comfort in the fact he could hear the steps at all. It made the whispers in his mind seem less deafening. If whoever it was, wasn't trying to hide their steps to a humans ear, they weren't hunting them. Maybe survivors had found them. Maybe they would even be friendly.

The two masters led them forward, giving off an air of obliviousness. But from the way Master Ti’s montrals were tilted back ever so slightly, and the way Master Kolar kept turning his head as if to listen behind him, they were quite aware of their trackers. 

A small piece of tension loosened in Obi-Wan’s chest. He was with two Masters now, who happened to come from species of apex hunters. They knew what they were doing. He didn’t have to be the one to keep track of everything, of every possible danger. He didn’t have to try to protect the group alone this time. The three with him were far from defenseless.

Up ahead lay another set of broken doors lay. This time, the entire set had been ripped and twisted away from their hinges, until they were barely hanging on by threads of tense steel.

The closer they got to them, the more details became apparent. Details that Obi-Wan quickly wished he hadn’t seen.

Splotches, where something had melted through the thick steel. Ripped and sheared metal, where it had been pierced and shredded.

Obi-Wan’s head twisted to the side, bowing from the sight to hide from well-secured memories, which were beginning to get knocked loose.

_ Careful, Obi, they’re all around us. _

Obi-Wan forced one foot forward in front of the other. 

Then he felt something touch his shoulder, grabbing onto him, and his mind flashed back to the sensation of claws. He whipped an arm out, forgetting for a moment that it was holding his sabre, and almost slamming the hilt straight into Quinlan’s face. It seemed to almost whistle through the air as his friend jerked back, barely avoiding the blow by a mere hair’s breadth.

“Whoa!” Quinlan jumped back to avoid the swipe. “Easy there, Obes, not here to wrestle you down, right?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t wrangle his nerves enough to respond to the attempt at humour, and Quin’s grin slid into something more somber.

“Seriously, you alright?”

– _ okay, Obi? We need to keep moving _ –

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

When he finally looked up again, there were matching faces of concern on the two Masters. Heat flooded his cheeks, but Obi-Wan pointedly turned his shoulder to them, facing the doors again.

“We should keep moving.”

_ They’re all around us. _

At least with all the destruction spent on the entrance, the group was able to walk through without a struggle, two at a time. The two Knights followed after the two Masters, though Master Kolar quickly dropped back behind them after they were through, putting himself between the other three, and whoever was tracking them.

It wouldn’t be a Jedi. That much Obi-Wan was sure of. If they were, there would have been a sign by now from them. An attempt at communication. It was either some of the colonisers, or some of the Mandalorians.

He actively ignored what else it might be. They were too loud. Too obvious. They weren’t being hunted. Just watched from a distance.

He focused on his breathing.

The new room they’d found themselves in seemed like a waiting room. Three different doors faced them, one in front of the group, and one either side.

Master Kolar strode to the door in front of them, making a line straight for the security pad to the side. Quinlan followed him, and the two got to work hacking through the apparently cheap security. Cheap, or broken.

Master Ti remained in the centre, checking each way slowly., Obi-Wan could feel her reaching out through the Force, cautious and slow. He still couldn’t feel anything.

After a few minutes, the other two still tinkering at the door, she drew back to herself with a deep breath, and turned to face the wrecked entrance they’d just come through.

A red dot appeared on the centre of the Master’s forehead. Obi-Wan’s grip around his sabre tightened once more.

Without missing a beat, she calmly raised her hands, chin tilting up as she raised her eyes through the doorway.

“Peace, Young Knight. They’re scared.”

Glancing back, feeling his stress rise a little, Obi-Wan saw Quin’s confused frown at Master Ti’s voice and rigid posture, her arms still raised as they were. Beside him, Master Kolar did little more than glance back before continuing his attempts to get through the security.

Quinlan ducked off to the side, circling around the Master, even as she remained still and calm. When he’d circled far enough, finally able to see the danger, he pulled his sabre hilt free, holding it loosely in his hand as he angled himself toward the doors.

Obi-Wan still couldn’t sense anything, and he had a sinking feeling that that didn’t mean nothing was there.

“We mean you no harm,” Master Ti called out, voice raised to carry. The faint echoes as it soared through the empty space, bouncing off the walls, sent chills down Obi-Wan’s spine.

Footsteps echoed through the entrance in front of them. The red dot on the Master’s forehead began to shift and waver with movement.

“Why are you here?”

The voice was hidden by a helmet, distorted slightly by its built-in vocoder, even as it was amplified. It sounded human, male, with a distinct accent.

“We came after a distress call was sent out, by our liaison Jedi, and his apprentice.”

Obi-Wan’s jaw clenched. Until this moment, he’d been able to push aside the knowledge of who, exactly, they were here to find, and the history hiding there.

The dot finally disappeared.Across from him, Quinlan dropped his shoulders, hooking his sabre back to his belt.

Obi-Wan’s own remained in a white-knuckled grip.

the small group finally came into view, pulling short a few mere steps from the entrance. “Last we heard,“ said the leader as he reached to pull his helmet off, “They’d managed to flee the compound.“

His voice, now free from the vocoder, was rough, as if he was used to yelling. His accent was clearer too.

Obi-Wan found himself analysing the man first. If he was the one talking, he was likely the one in charge of this group.

He took note of the bare steel, red cauldrons, and yellow accents. The man had a red cape hanging across his shoulders, his weapons all holstered.

“I see,” Master Ti bowed her head lightly. “And if I may ask whowe’re speaking to?”

The man regarded her, face severe and clean shaven, cut through with silver lined scars, dark eyes piercing through the small distance.

“Jaster Mereel, Mand’alor and alor of the supercommandos.”


	7. Chapter 7

A round of introductions later and the newly enlarged group settled. Some stood, some chose to seat themselves on the nearby benches and chairs lining the walls of the room. All in all, it was a total of four Jedi, and three Mandalorians: Jaster, as he’d introduced himself; his son, Jango; and his second-in-command, Myles. The two younger men stayed standing, leaning casually against the wall, helmets still firmly secured on their heads. Jaster, the Mand’alor - something Obi-Wan was still wrapping his brain around - sat on the floor beside the Jedi an elbow hooked over a bent knee. Apparently, the Mandalorians were rendezvousing with another two Mandalorians. They’d split up with in order to search the compound, and were on their way to do so when they’d noted the group of Jedi making their way through. Pure chance allowed their paths to meet.

It felt like a touch more than chance to Obi-Wan, the meeting almost singing with a faint tune of fate. If the Force hadn’t had something to do with this, he’d be a  singing Bantha.

By appearance alone, they all looked calm and at ease. Even in the Force, which was frustratingly muddled at the moment, there were no obvious tells to say otherwise.

But Jaster kept his hands loose, one rubbing circles into the silver edge of his vambrace the other tapping a rhythm on his thigh, within easy distance to his blasters or knives. His gaze barely strayed from the four Jedi since he’d settled, with only slight glances taking them out of his field of vision.

Myles had his arms crossed, one hand outright curled on some controls of his own vambrace. And Jango had his hands tucked in toward his guns, barely hooked into loops around his holsters.

Obi-Wan had no doubt that they were likely conversing on private comms in their helmets, watching his group’s every move.

Master Ti and Master Kolar were both in meditation poses on either side of the Knights, a short distance from Obi-Wan’s other shoulder, and a few bare feet from Quinlan’s exposed side, an extra layer of protection for the two in the middle.

Master Kolar, having finished breaking through the security systems, was tapping away at his comm, looking through blueprints to figure out their next move. Master Ti was calm, regarding, and assessing, the armoured beings across the room.

Small tells from the Masters made it clear they were staying at the ready, which kept Obi-Wan from being too tightly wound.. Even Quinlan, who sat beside him, legs splayed out, felt tense through his shields, and where their shoulders pressed against each other.

Obi-Wan continued to fidget with his saber, tapping lightly at the metal.

The time passed in stilted silence.

Finally, Master Kolar stood, abrupt enough in his movement that the two younger Mandos pushed off the wall into a loose fighting stance, and Jaster had slid a leg under his weight, half off the floor, before any of the three realised the Jedi wasn’t heading toward them.

Obi-Wan pushed himself up to his feet, Quinlan hopping up lightly beside him.

Master Ti rose smoothly, attention still fixed on the three across the room.

“The security system might have life forms–“

“How many?”

Master Kolar turned and glared at Jango for his interruption.

“Might have an  _ unknown number _ of lifeforms.” He turned his attention back to the screen in front of him. “Somewhere around section…. 4C. Through maintenance, and near the agricultural plant.”

Mentally, Obi-Wan did the maths.

“So–” He frowned slightly, internally re-checking his facts to make sure they were right. “Up ahead three more rooms then right?”

“Five,” the Master corrected, still looking at the screen. “Apparently the compound has been expanded from the blueprints we were given in the mission brief.”

“Of course they did,” Quinlan muttered beside him. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but agree with the frustrated tone. If the blueprints they’d been given were outdated, what could they be missing that might be important?

“Nothing to do about it now.” Shaak Ti placed a soft hand on Quinlan’s shoulder, before turning to the Mandalorians.

“We will continue forward, and investigate this. You are welcome to come with us. It would be appreciated if we encounter any hostile events. Otherwise, we will take our leave, until we see you again.”

The Mand’alor shook his head.

“We’ll come with. There’s a chance our two scouts are down there if there’s that much activity. If not, there’s no telling if it’s any of our commandos, or Death Watch. Either way, it’ll be good for us to investigate the activity as well.”

Bowing her head slightly, Shaak Ti gestured for Agen to continue. She didn’t follow, tilting her head at Quinlan and himself first.

Obi-Wan realised she was planning on putting herself last, between them and the Mandalorians, in case past history proved too much of an incentive for action.

Some of his worry must show on his face.

“I will be alright, Knight Kenobi,” she murmured.

_ C’mon, we’ll be alright, Obi. _

With a twitch, Obi-Wan ducked his head, following after Quinlan. Behind him came the soft tread of Master Ti footsteps. Behind her came the rougher tread of three soldiers.

Continuing forward, together, Obi-Wan couldn’t shake his feeling of uncertainty, almost like they were on the very precipice of something big. He wasn’t sure if it was the mission, the memories, or a true touch of premonition. Whatever it might be, the only thing to do was be in the here and now, and follow the path that was slowly laying out before them.

Staring forward, senses alert, for all the good it would do them, Obi-Wan followed the line of Quinlan’s shoulders, stepping in time with his friend’s tempo. Over his head, he could see the tips of Master Kolar’s horns, the Master leading the way further into the compound, through the hallway they’d found themselves in.

Lights flickered overhead. Dents and marks covered the walls of the painted hallway. The tiling on the floors showed the beginning of wear, still young from when it had been placed, and only just beginning to show signs of the life that had come before them.

An entire city—after all, that’s what the compound was supposed to work as—just empty. Devoid of life, or even signs of life. Someone else might describe it as eerie. As creepy. As a sign people were in danger. Obi-Wan just saw it as a warning.

And it almost felt like warning sirens were blaring, deafening in their crawling silence, through his head.

It could swallow him. Swallow down the Jedi, until all that was left was a child, staring death right in the maws, swimming in pools of diluted acid.

Hidden in the corner of his mind, a chainlink snapped, and the past came that much closer to breaking free. To becoming his here and now.


	8. Chapter 8

As a whole, the seven made their way through the  small labyrinth of the compound. Through two sets of hallways, they found themselves in the locker rooms, maintenance linked by the double doors to their left. Forward lay the cloning bay, then the agricultural centre. To their right lay labs, more lockers, and work rooms.  Near that, the electrical room, holding the power boxes to this part of the facility was attached. Or at least it should be . Obi-Wan could almost feel the thrum of the electricity as it arced through the walls, powering the lights, doors, and electronics left behind.

He wasn’t sure if the twist in his gut was because of how eerie he found the lack of activity, as if these areas had remained untouched by the chaos just down the corridor, or if he was receiving a warning.

The second guess gave him a mental itch he was finding harder to ignore.

With each corridor they walked through, the marks and signs of fleeing lessened. The doors to maintenance were solid, without so much as a smudge on them, and clearly locked, if the red light glaring at them from the top of the frame was any indication. 

To their side, through small window ports in the smaller side doors, Obi-Wan could only see white in what he guessed was the cloning lab. This one had a smaller, simple lock on it. 

When Master Kolar stepped forward, cautiously testing the control pad, the door slid open with a small hiss. Barely hesitating, the Master led the way into the room, automatic lights flickering on, raising the brightness from dim to near blinding compared to the faulty lighting they were coming from.

As they stepped through, the scene before them made Obi-Wan feel cold. He could find nothing out of place: not a single piece of equipment, flimsi, or screen. Everything was immaculate. Everything was perfect. The disconnect between this room—this entire area in fact—and the absolute mayhem such a short distance away settled like lead in his gut.

His fingers twitched against his side. He hurriedly clasped his hands together, hiding them in the sleeves of his robe.

At least he wasn’t the only one who felt something was off. Master Kolar and Quinlan ahead both seemed tense. It only worsened with each step into the room; both Jedi became more balanced on the balls of their feet until they were almost prowling silently, without even a whisper of their presence to be heard. It was a stark reminder of how far Quinlan was into his training as a Shadow. Even compared to Obi-Wan’s personal experience with keeping silent, there was only so much experience could teach you without training after all, and the Shadows were trained by the best.

The best was currently prowling up beside him, montrals twitching, lightsaber clasped loosely in her hand.

Even the Mandalorians’ steps had quieted the further they walked, and now they were ghost-like in their silence. There were small clinks and clicks to be expected with the armour they wore, but if Obi-Wan weren’t on edge, and the area around them weren’t so dead silent, he’d be hard-pressed to pick them out. Even their footsteps, with the hard soled boots they were, had gone muffled, little more than whispers against the floor.

All served as a reminder of how well-trained Mandalorian warriors were.

Obi-Wan’s skin crawled, the hair on his neck felt like it was standing straight up. His mouth felt dry, yet his breathing had slowed, the training in him taking over to ensure he maintained optimal oxygen levels. He found his feet twisting, his balance moving to the edges of the balls of his feet. His shoulders were creeping up, his elbows rising even as he kept his hands clasped. At a second’s notice, he could dive for cover—under the nearby desk, behind that set of drawers, throw that screen as a distraction—or defend himself—with his lightsaber, weight light against his hip, or other objects in the room.

All around them, flimsi and blueprints of genes—for plants, based on their diagrams—were hung and pinned. The scientists here had likely been working on the DNA of said organisms to bring them back from their extinction.

Through another set of doors, Obi-Wan saw signs of another cloning facility.

He recalled the blueprints they’d been given. There was only supposed to be one facility, half the size of the room they were currently in. And yet here they were, cautiously stalking through a room the length of a freighter that could fit the works of tens of scientists at once, about to enter another likely of the same size.

The difference in information from the slim amount in their briefing to the evidence all around them, was itching at the back of Obi-Wan’s mind. This went beyond just incompetence; this was  _ dangerous _ . The further they went into the facility, the more proof there was of just how dark they were flying. At best, it was the result of a lack of information, a result of unpreparedness. Of taking action before they should have been told to do so. 

At best, it was misleading. At worst...

Obi-Wan decided to ignore exactly how bad the worst-case scenario could be. He couldn’t even imagine the scope of it if he were honest with himself. 

The stress was digging claws into his temper. He did his best to push his frustrations aside. Should-haves and could-haves had to wait until they found their missing Jedi and gone back to the Senate with their findings.

_ Obi, I think I hear something. _

The clinking, small as it might be behind him, had him grinding his teeth together. _Don’t they know anything? Don’t they know they shouldn’t be making any noise at all?_ _They were going to give the group away._

Master Kolar approached the doors to the second lab slowly, peering in from an angle to check if it was clear.

As he turned to face them, mouth open, about to report back, the door slid open with a sharp little hiss of compressed air.  Turning back with what might fall into a frown, Master Kolar pressed on through the now open door.

Quinlan kept his hand on his lightsaber, following after the Master.

They should keep someone out here— a small cluster of them—in case that open door meant trouble. Then they should keep some in the next room. They should have kept someone in the room behind them.

Obi-Wan turned at that thought, peering back in a quick flash of movement. It startled the trio behind him if their flinches were anything to go by.

The locker room behind them were dark, and Obi-Wan tensed at the sight.

“Who’s watching the back?”

The words felt like they barely came out, as if they were, more than anything, a heavy breath.

The locker room was dark. Occasionally, a dim flash of red would coat the shade, changing the depth by the smallest fraction.

Out of focus in his field of vision, Obi-Wan was barely aware of the Mandalorians turning as well, one cursing lightly under his breath. It might have been the older one, Jaster.

He was reaching up toward his helmet, His head tilting down for a moment while he flicked something on. A torch. He was going to shine a torch.

Bad idea. They had time. They always had time as long as they played by the rules. Pretend you can’t see, and the game of cat and mouse continued. That was how it worked. If they were seen, they were dead.

If  _ they _ saw, they were dead.

“No, nononono–”

A hand on his shoulder gripped him tight, yanking him sharply and sending his head spinning. His breath was coming in smaller gasps, shallow and quick.

Jaster lifted his head back up, and a beam of light broke the shadow, glinting a reflection off the smooth walls and metal of the locker room.

Nothing else. No limbs or claws or jaws.

Obi-Wan refused to acknowledge the stares he was receiving from the other two Mandalorians. He ignored the eyes drilling into the side of his skull. There was nothing there, so they could keep going.

Turning on his heel, he hurried after Quinlan and Master Kolar, who were only just turning back to see what was holding up the rest of the group.

Everything was fine. The heavy feeling of lead in his stomach was nothing. Just bad memories.


	9. Chapter 9

The second cloning room was identical to the first.

Impossibly identical. From every flimsi on the wall to every screen and instrument laid out on benches and in drawers left half-open. Obi-Wan had to glance back just to make sure he had, in fact, walked through the door into the second room.

Beyond that door, the forbidding darkness of the locker room seemed to rip into his very soul.

He startled when one of the Mandalorians entered his field of vision, walking through the entrance after him. No need to let them think he was crazier than they already undoubtedly thought.

Ahead, the three Jedi seemed tense. It helped ease something in his chest. If they could sense something was off, then it wasn’t all in his head.

Not that his bad feeling could turn out to be good news.

He jumped as the door hissed.The Mandalorian, Jaster, had palmed the controls, and shut it behind them.

“It should give us some warning, in case there’s anything behind us,” he said.

His helmet’s visor hid any expression, and the vocoder in his bucket distorted any tone. But even so, Obi-Wan liked to think he could still hear caution, perhaps even caring. After all, even with the bad blood between their cultures, the man had no reason to put his own son at risk just to increase the danger for the Jedi.

The other three Jedi appeared to have simply accepted the reasoning, and gone back to checking things over.

Obi-Wan, feeling minutely safer for a closed door at his back, found himself peering closer at some of the flimsi on the walls. Something about it bothered him, like a whisper in the back of his mind. It was incredibly frustrating.

Only years of practice, and the fact he had calmed somewhat, kept him still when Quinlan crept up beside him, knocking his hand lighting into Obi-Wan’s own to get his attention.

It was still enough to get his heart rate up, but at least his hand hadn’t been on his saber. He really didn’t want to skewer his friend.

“You doing alright Obes?” Quinlan’s voice and expression were serious. Grim almost, with concern.

Obi-Wan managed a jerky nod, his breath catching in his throat before he could utter the words,  _ I’m fine _ .

  
  


“I’m managing,” he said instead. His mind-healer would be proud, he was sure. They were always telling him he shouldn’t lie about his state of mind, to himself or others.

A twitch of his lips in commiseration, Quinlan prowled away toward Shaak Ti. She had stopped to murmur lowly with Master Kolar beside the door ahead of them. This one didn’t have any kind of window or port to look through, leaving them blind to what lay ahead.

Obi-Wan wondered how far they had to go. He wondered just how wrong the blueprints they’d been given were.

These rooms were pristine, but they weren’t new. There were established marks to them that spoke of years of use. Something about the way it was set up and the way things were left that spoke of a long story. Things were placed in particular ways, eerie as it might be being so similar to the last, but for all he knew it was the same workers using both labs.

But why would they need two though, if they were all the same people, just at different work stations?

He found his gaze sliding back to the flimsi in front of him, pinned up to a light-board. It sat like an annoying piece of grit in his boot, shifting annoyingly in the back of his mind. He just needed to figure out what was so weirdly familiar-

“Hey.” Obi-Wan startled at the voice so close to him.He found himself face to face with a helm of pure beskar, unpainted except for blue around the visor. His bracers and his pauldrons were painted blue and an orange-like yellow respectively; the rest of the armor shined in the light. Myles.

Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan thought he saw Myles move, arm shifting as if to reach out, before the man shifted his weight back entirely as Jaster walked past the pair.

“I, uh, just wanted to check, uh, that you were okay?” Myles was already shaking his head before he finished the question. His hand came up in a fist to tap against his helmet—probably not intentional based on his small flinch—and he cleared his throat loudly before trying again.

“Uh, starting over. You already know I’m Myles. You’re Obi-Wan. Hi.”

“Hello there.” He couldn’t help but give a small smile at Myles’ fumbling. Maybe it was intentional, away to get Obi-Wan to lower his guard. That was fine. He didn’t have to be rude or unnecessarily suspicious of everything. It was also nice to feel like he wasn’t the only one that felt awkward about the extended group. The differences in their goals and priorities would definitely be interesting.

Obi-Wan personally thought it seemed likely to be a volatile mix given the cultures’ past histories.

“Just wanted to check in, make sure you were alright, after–”“ Myles jerked a hand to point of his shoulder, trailing off quickly, as if unsure whether or not to continue. Obi-Wan ignored the flush creeping up his neck. There were other things the man could have said if he were being intentionally malicious, so he decided to take him at face value.

  
  


“Yeah–I mean yes. I’m–”“ Again he felt the ‘fine’ almost slip out. Maybe it should have been better to not catch it, but he mentally shrugged and went off his gut feeling. It was the first good feeling he’d had all day. “Coping, I guess. Just bad memories.”

“Ah.” Myles replied.  Something about the way he said it—without pity, purely matter-of-fact gave Obi-Wan a feeling of relief he hadn’t been able to reach with his peers.

“If it helps...” Myles pulled a blade out of… somewhere. It was surprisingly easy to push aside the urge to tense up and prepare for a fight. “I’ve found having more than one weapon, especially if it’s a bit hidden, can help with that.”

Deciding the man was being sincere, Obi-Wan took the blade gingerly from Myles’ outstretched hand. He decided to forego telling Myles about the small blade in his boot. Or the one in the back of his belt. They were both rather small, and not great quality anyway. This knife —a vibro-blade if he wasn’t mistaken—seemed to be of extremely high quality. The metal almost seemed to hum under his fingertips.

He jerked back to the present.

“Oh, thank you! This is– I really appreciate this.”

He wished the light was just a tad more dim to hide the way heat had rushed into his cheeks. Thankfully, or maybe unfortunately, Jango came up behind Myles with a clap on his shoulders.

“I’m sure Myles would be more than happy to show you some of his fancy moves,” Jango said, retreating quickly towards the others.

Grumbling to himself, Myles turned back to Obi-Wan He seemed abashed, at least from what little Obi-Wan could tell from his body language.

“I mean, I can… If you want to, of course! It’s not– I wouldn't–” 

With a groan and a slap to his visor, Myles walked off toward Jango and Jaster.

Obi-Wan wondered what that was all about, especially when it looked like Jango and Jaster might both be laughing at Myles.Probably a cultural thing, he decided, before joining them, sliding the knife into a loop he had on the side of his obi.

Something warm settled in his chest at the interaction. Obi-Wan no longer felt wound up like a bomb about to go off. It made it feel like it was easier to breathe. 

The group continued forward, he completely forgot about the flimsi up on the wall as he went.


	10. Chapter 10

Somehow, it was only now, as they approached the agricultural plant ahead - a small side section of it anyway - that Obi-Wan recalled they had been meant to go through the locked doors of maintenance. He wondered at the fact it had taken him this long to realise they were going the long way round.

He wondered at the fact that neither of the Masters, or even the Mandalorians, had spoken of this, or suggested trying to break through.

He wondered at the fact that the very thought of such an action had his pulse racing, and his heart in his throat.

Then the thought slid away from him, and he wondered why he’d even thought about it in the first place. It mustn't have been too important if he was already struggling to remember why he was concerned about it.

The cloning labs were left through the doorway behind them, their light the only thing illuminating the darkness of the hallway they found themselves in. The lights weren’t working here. Not even a flicker, and in the quiet, Obi-Wan realised he could barely even hear the humming of electricity, merely the echoes of what was behind.

He gently pulled his lightsaber free, holding the hilt in his hand, ready for what might come next.

He was now last in their little line, holding up the rear. His skin tingled, and he had to shoot a look behind him, seeing nothing but the lab they’d left, and the outline of the still closed door on the other side of it.

The window on that door though, was black.

The first cloning facility no longer had any lights.

He had to turn around. He had to ignore the pricking at his eyes. Had to ignore the way his breath shook with every exhale, coming just that bit quicker. That bit shorter.

It was fine. They were probably just motion-activated. Even though the lights had been on before the group had walked through.

No, no. He was not going to spiral. He was not doing this now. Not only would it be embarrassing in front of two Masters, Quinlan and three strangers - Mandalorians no less- but they were on a mission, with a possible time crunch, and he had already had too many panic attacks today. It was fine.

He shoved the voice of his mind healer away before it had the chance to remind of what he already knew.

He ignored the way his mind seemed to darken with shadows at the action. It was fine. There was no need to panic. No alarms were going off or anything.

They would still be rigged, wouldn’t they? Of course they would. The labs weren’t touched. They were still in full working order.

Then why were the lights in this hallway not working?

He risked another glance back. The dark form of the porthole window seemed to stare back at him.

He could almost see the snarling silver teeth, where they could be outlined from the light in the lab, pressed against the glass.

A hand to his shoulder startled him badly, snapping him out of– whatever that was. A memory? More like a hallucination from stress, as the doctors had told him.

There were no teeth. There was nothing there. Just insurrectionists.  Surely it was just insurrectionists. The brief had mentioned Death Watch- Kyr’stad. They were the only enemy here. He was only here as a precaution for an impossibility, to cover all risks as requested by the senate. That was all.

Obi-Wan took a shaky breath, glad he hadn’t ignited his sabre as he  faced Myles, holding his arms up, stepping back out of his space with a concerned head tilt. 

“You–“ The man glanced back at the lab as well, falling quiet. Had he noticed too? Was he just going to tell Obi-Wan to stop being paranoid?

“You think that could be something worth keeping an eye on?”

Obi-Wan fought back the prickling in his eyes, struggling to keep his breathing even as he forced his head to nod.

“Yeah, might be a good idea. Don’t know who could be behind us after all.”

The matter of fact way the man spoke helped him calm down. Helped get his mind in order. Insurrectionists. It was most likely just the Death Watch. There had been a warning about them in the brief.

“Come on, don’t want to get left behind. I don’t know about you, but I think I’d rather keep ahead and plan out something to kick their shebs rather than wait here until they decide to play catch up hey?”

“Yeah.” Obi-Wan let out a shaky exhale, lip quirking up in thanks.

With another loose gesture - more of a shoulder roll than anything - the Mandalorian took the lead, striding to catch up to where the others had migrated down the hallway toward the end.

Obi-Wan glanced back once more. Just insurrectionists. They could plan for them later.

He turned to follow Myles, ignoring how his neck prickled at the action.

Jaster was the only other one who seemed to have realised something was up, head tilting in a similar way Myles had done so when Obi-Wan finally reached them, only a few steps behind Myles himself. The rest of the group was too focused on the doors ahead, Quinlan and Shaak Ti murmuring lightly to each other while Jango listened, Master Kolar once again playing around with the security pad on the door.

The dim light was now really starting to affect his vision, the details of everyone’s clothes and armour blending in together in the drab, dark colour of the hall.

Obi-Wan wondered if anyone else was affected. Master Kolar and Master Ti both came from species who specialised in hunting. That came with the perk of superior vision in dim light, and even varying night vision, better for Master Kolar than Ti if Obi-Wan remembered right from his biology classes. Even Quinlan, being a Kiffar, had better sight than a Stewjoni human.

Obi-Wan had no doubt the Mandalorians all had a form of night vision built into their helmets as well.

Looking forward into the darkness permeating the room in front of them, he did his best to hold in a sigh. He would either be going in completely blind, and have to be led through like a pet, or have to wait until someone got some light going and decided it was safe enough to do so.

Had anyone else come to the same conclusion? He wouldn’t be surprised if it had slipped their minds against the importance of their mission or evidence gathering. Though Jaster was still staring at him. Even Myles was back at it. Maybe those two had thought of it? Likely not, he wouldn’t be surprised if the information they had on Jedi still relied on some of those old myths; the ones that said Jedi were basically mini deities with superhuman abilities and powers.

Their heads kept tilting toward each other, visors turning in those directions.

They were probably having a conversation over internal comms again, Obi-Wan decided.

Then Myles reached up, and pulled his helmet off, the mechanism giving a short hiss of compressed air.

Even in the dark light, Obi-Wan could see just how blonde the man was. Kind of reminded him of Skywalker a bit, when the kid had been a few years younger. When Obi-Wan and first come out of stasis. The man had close cropped hair, the top only slightly longer than the shaved sides. He guessed that was handy for wearing a helmet.

The man looked around, eyes wincing and squinting as they seemed to adjust, before sighing heavily.

“You're a full human, aren’t you Obi-Wan?”

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan nodded, keeping his eyes on Myles’ face rather than the movement by the door.

“Right, well, this light’s abysmal,” the man muttered, before beginning to rifle through some of the pockets lining his belt.

Master Ti turned to look back at what Master Kolar was doing. Quinlan couldn’t stop glancing between Myles and Obi-Wan, and based on the small head movements, Jango couldn’t either. Obi-Wan wondered what the man was looking for, even as he turned to address the Masters.

“We shouldn’t let this slow us down, we don’t know if those life forms are people, or if they’re in any kind of distress or danger.”

Master Ti regarded him steadily.

Master Kolar gave a hum of assent over his shoulder, just as the light above the door switched to blue, the locking mechanism unlatching, and the door sliding open. With a glance back, eyes reflecting the light behind the group, the Master nodded before turning and prowling his way into the darkness, every inch the predatory species a Zabrak was. Jaster shoved Jango forward, sending the younger man forward with a small sound of surprise through the doorway, and Master Ti calmly followed, finally taking her eyes off of Obi-Wan.

Quinlan hesitated, eyeing between Obi-Wan and the two Mandalorians left. They didn’t have time for this. Sending reassurances over the bond, Obi-Wan reached forward, gently pushing him to move.

Jango was with two Master Jedi. If the Mandalorians were ever going to try anything, they would have done it before sending one of their own off with their enemies alone. Especially their Mand’alor’s son.

Quin only hesitated another second, before his face set in determination, and he turned to follow the others.

“Ah ha!” The small exclamation drew his attention back to Myles, where the blonde was holding up what seemed to be a set of goggles with a wide smile.

“Knew I still had them here somewhere–”

“Those still work?” Jaster’s dry voice seemed to interrupt the man, likely before he started up another one of his muttering tirades under his breath.

“Yeah, they should. I last used it a couple weeks ago - when we had that little run in with the–”

“–I remember, Myles–”

“–pirates who locked Jango into his–”

“–Myles!”

“–Right, anyway, they still work, and I recently re-charged the batteries in them as well—never know when they could come in handy again—so they should be working good as new.”

Jaster sighed, head tilting back, and Obi-Wan could only be amused. The way Myles spoke reminded him of Bant a bit, back when they’d been crechlings, before-

He cut off that train of thought quick.

“So, anyway,” Myles cleared his throat, turning to Obi-Wan and holding them out in his hands, “They’re basically night vision, couple other things in there:heat, tracking, couple more goodies–“ 

Jaster cleared his throat pointedly. 

“Right, but they’ll do the job. Let you see without needing light or a torch or anything so that way you won’t be–“

“Won’t need any help,” Jaster cut in forcefully, visor firmly fixed on Myles’ now frozen expression.

“Right.” Myles grinned weakly, before ducking his head a bit and shoving the googles a bit further out.

Obi-Wan reached forward to take them slowly. They were a similar make and build to the ones Cerasi had–

He cut that thought off early too.

“Thank you,” he raised his eyes to meet Myles’.

Bobbing his head awkwardly for a few beats, the man seemed to startle when Jaster snorted, reaching across to thump him on his shoulder. He hurriedly threw his bucket back on, and Obi-Wan wondered why it had been necessary for him to take it off, before mentally shrugging, and turning his focus back to the goggles in his hands. Jaster took off into the darkness in front of them, the heavy sound of his footsteps seeming to be swallowed up by the encroaching shadows.

Obi-Wan brought his head up, goggles raised to lower them down over his forehead, still facing towards Myles, just in time to see a dark, large shape in the cloning facility behind them, moving across the doorway, in the light. 

Then the lights shut out, the humming of electricity whirring down to a stop.

He shoved the goggles on the rest of the way, bringing a hand up to fumble awkwardly with the controls on the side. How did it turn on again? How did it turn on?

A hand grabbed his, but before he could panic, he found himself blinking against harsh green everywhere around him, illuminating the visor now inches from his face.

His breath was still coming short.

“You alright?”

Obi-Wan felt himself beginning to shake.

“There’s something in the lab behind us.”

Then the door separating them from the rest of the group slid shut, the locking mechanism sliding into place with a solid thunk.

Always good to know security measures locking the facility down worked even without electricity.


	11. Myles

It took a moment for Myles’ HUD to adjust to the sudden dark. It took a moment longer for him to settle his nerves,even as he stayed on high alert, after the door cut the two of them off from the rest of the group.

He took a deep breath, turning his head to look at Obi-Wan. Myles’ hands were still raised from turning on the younger man’s night vision. Obi-Wan had seemed to know where the controls were, but by his fumbling Myles guessed it had been a while since he’d used this model. Probably didn’t help Myles kept making his own little adjustments.

Now, he wasn’t quite sure if he should lower his hands back down. On one hand, he’d already possibly overstepped boundaries. On the other, Obi-Wan looked like he was starting to hyper-ventilate or bolt.

_ There’s something in the lab behind us. _

As far as Myles was concerned, whoever was in there could wait. Or whatever the hu’tuun’la Kyr’stad had sent in their stead. He activated a minor tracking system integrated into his helmet and set it to keep an eye on that room. If something came out, he’d know.

Until something did though, his attention was on the man in front of him, whose eyes were trained on the doorway to the lab, even with the limited vision the goggles would give him.

“Obi-Wan.” Even keeping his voice soft, Obi-Wan still flinched at the sound, eyes darting to Myles’ for only a split second before he looked back at the hall.

“Obi-Wan.” Myles tried lowering the volume a touch more, voice now barely a murmur. “What did it look like?”

It almost seemed like he’d gone to a different time. Myles had seen it happen in too many soldiers to not recognise the signs. Seen it happen too many times to Jaster, and even Jango. Whatever Obi-Wan had seen, it wasn’t taking him to a good place, and Myles couldn’t be worried about dragging around a half-here man when there was a possible threat to take care of.

He really hoped this didn’t get him impaled.

Reaching forward, he tapped lightly on Obi-Wan’s jaw, similar to the way he did with Jango when he’d spent too long studying and pouring over data pads. It was an effective way to draw attention for sure.

Just not in this situation, it seemed.

Myles sighed. It’d be nice to have some cold water about now. There was no time to do this a nicer way, he needed to snap Obi-Wan out of it now.

He tilted his body weight, brought his arm up, and took a brief second to pray to the gods that the Jedi didn’t ignite the saber that was now clutched in his hand.

Smack!

Obi-Wan’s arm swung out, and Myles lunged back just in time to miss it. Halfway through the swing, a brief flash of light shorted out his vision, the feed scrambling together just in time to see Obi-Wan’s horrified expression staring at the ignited sabre in his palm. Myles took a shaky breath in, head light with the realisation of just how near a miss that had been. 

Whatever delay there had been in Obi-Wan’s instincts snapping back fully, Myles would take gratefully. 

“You good?” Myles held his arms up, hoping Obi-Wan would understand why he’d slapped him. Jango had punched him in the face the one time he’d had to do it to him. Well, helmet. But it had knocked it enough that the bottom of the visor had actually ended up slamming into his jaw.

“Yeah.”“ Obi-Wan was breathless but alert, eyes focusing on his surroundings rather than looking blank and lifeless.

“Alright,” Myles glanced at the door now. Looking it over, his scans were picking up nothing. No signs of electricity, no weak points he could damage to try force it open. Whatever had just happened had caused it to lock down, hard, and from the other side it looked like.

Switching to internal comms, he tried to get his friend’s attention. “Jango? Jango, can you hear me?”

A hissing silence answered.

Biting back a groan, Myles switched channels. “Jaster, Jaster do you copy?”

More silence. Whatever was in that door, it was interfering with his equipment. Well, that’s if it had anything to do with the door.

He pulled his attention back to the lab behind them. He wouldn’t be surprised if his comms were down for an entirely different reason.

Switching back to external comms, Myles addressed Obi-Wan: “Alright.” He was glad to see the man was back to full awareness, if his lack of flinching was any sign. “Communications are crashed. We’ll have to make another way through to the others and meet them up ahead, or do our own thing and leave them a message somewhere. Either way, we’ll have to go back.”

Obi-Wan turned to the door himself, ignited his sabre, and held it up against the metal, only for the blade to sputter and spit. He quickly drew it back, de-igniting it as he stepped away.

“No way to cut through either,” the Jedi muttered, unnecessarily in Myles’ opinion.

Taking a breath, Myles turned down the hallway again, squinting his eyes in a vain attempt to see further in more detail. The system was still not picking up any movement, but it also looked like it was glitching, randomly flashing and fritzing with phantom movement before it faded away, so he wasn’t prepared to bring his guard down. The night-vision was only able to pick up so much so the room ahead was still bare black, and would be until they got closer.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Obi-Wan muttered, falling into step beside him as Myles started cautiously walking back down the hall.

_ No kidding _ , he wanted to say, but bit back. There were nothing but bad feelings all over this banthashit.

“Yeah, can only keep going.”

Taking Obi-Wan’s hum as agreement, Myles picked up the pace a bit, only slowing down again when they approached the doorway. His night vision finally filtered in more details within the lab, spreading from the floor to some of the benches, to that tail–

_ What. The. Kriff. _

He stared, body going still, at the barbed tail sitting just on the outskirts of his HUD. Obi-Wan went stiff beside him. At least, right up until he grabbed a fistful of Myles’ jumpsuit, and yanked him sideways against the frame of the door, out of sight of the room.

“What the–”

“Shhh.”

A hiss behind them. Something scraped. Then there was a loud bang.  _ Ping ping ping _ as things fell to the floor.

Another bang. Something cracked. Something shattered.

Myles took a shaky breath, wondering if he’d be able to sneak a look. Before he could even twist halfway, a hand slammed into his chest, pushing him back against the wall.

Another hiss. Except it wasn’t really a hiss. It was deeper. More terrifying and warbling.

Then there were more slams against metal, and he pulled his blaster up to his chest, head turning to the doorway, ready to fire if anything came through.

A shriek filled the air, sounding more like metal on metal than anything natural, and something slammed against more metal.  A loud clutter filled the air, as if who- as if whatever was in there had just knocked several things over at once. Something loud clacked, like plastic, over something. No, not quite plastic. But not metal either. More like a shell. Like a shell had just hit a hard surface at high speed.

Myles breathed out slowly, and flinched when Obi-Wan pushed past him. Myles’ fingertips barely missing him when he reached out to snag the jedi’s sleeve.

“Wait, where are you goi–?”

Into the lab apparently.

Swearing up a mental storm, Myles followed, pulling his second blaster free, wondering when exactly the jetiise trained each other to be absolutely insane.

He spun around the corner, only to be presented with a mess, and no sign of whatever the hell that thing had been.  There were screens shattered and ripped from walls and machines, tangled knots of wires and bent poles all over the place. Beds, cabinets and work tables had been overturned, creating an obstacle course of utter mayhem.

Obi-Wan was halfway down the room already. His boots silent against the floor, he dodged through the chaos with an ease that left Myles green. Then the jetii randomly darted off to the side, yanking something off the wall.

Seriously, what the kriff was going on?

Taking care to avoid everything blocking his way, and move quietly, Myles stalked after the man, making a face at the weird liquid all over the floor. It almost looked like drool, sticky and clear as it was. Disgusting. What the hell kind of thing would even make this much drool naturally?

He ignored the little mental jab of a spiked tail and unnatural shriek. Yes, he did have an idea, but right now he needed to keep calm so if his brain could not, that would be great. He had a feral jetii to try get some answers out of.

“Obi-Wan–”

“Shh.” This time the shush wasn’t as harsh. A finger came up to Obi-Wan’s lips as his head tilted upwards, to the side, as if he were trying to hear something. Myles breathed through the tension that was beginning to wind its way through his joints and up his spine. He shook his head in a vain attempt to ease it. The last thing he wanted right now was for whatever that thing was to come back, but he needed answers before he lost it and stumbled into some other nonsense that would get him killed.

No one told him of anything like that on the planet, and Jaster would have let them all know if he had been. 

Just what were these people, and the jetiise, hiding?


End file.
